Lindsey had been quite busy in the studio. Ever since he joined Fleetwood Mac its been non stop for him. I feel like he has barely spent any time with me, but I know I shouldn't complain. This is a lot of hard work for him with grueling hours and I realize he's the new guy and isn't setting the schedule. I'm the one who told him to do it. I'm not going to complain.
They money isn't exactly pouring in but Lindsey's income is making this a lot easier on us. I'm still working but we've got a lot more breathing room now financially speaking, which is nice. I unload a few things that I've purchased for our apartment, placing them where they belong. I then begin making myself a little dinner, placing two extra portions of the same onto plates that I'll keep in the fridge for Lindsey and Richard. The stillness in the apartment is getting to me. I'm used to a little company around here and Lindsey's constant playing.
I'll be honest, I haven't made an abundance of friends since we moved here. Sure, a couple girls from work here and there but I've been so wrapped up in Lindsey, work and recording that haven't developed much of social life. Which is highly unlike me. I resign myself to work on that.
I've already noticed a shift in him. He's so angry when he gets home at night. Maybe some of it is the whiskey talking but I know him. I know his need for perfection in the studio and his abrasive unwillingness to compromise on his music. I chuckle a bit, wondering if any of the other band members knew what they were getting into.
He told me he wanted me to come down to the studio sometime when they first began recording, but I declined. I thought it would be just too awkward to sit in on the process with a group of people who so clearly didn't want me to be involved in the first place. But I did want to be supportive of him. I sighed audibly. I'd attempted to bring it up a few times but he'd somewhat waived me off. Maybe he didn't want me down there. I physically shook my head. I didn't know what was going on in the studio but I didn't need to have those kind of thoughts either. The nearer his destination the more I felt him slip slidin away.
I went about my business the rest of the evening. I tided the apartment and folded some laundry before I took my nightly walk, now being ritually ended with a cup of tea with the elderly Mrs. Rosenthal from 11A. She was a kind woman who gave excellent advice. I enjoyed sitting contently in front of her apartment and chatting with her. She told me of her grandchildren and the goings on in the apartment complex, always able to distract me for a bit. I spoke with her regarding only vague generalities though. I was never one to get into it regarding my relationship with Lindsey. People often didn't understand. I did however tell her that Lindsey was preparing to tour in support of this new album. I think that she picked up on my concerns immediately, but let me continue to talk. I'd decided that once this album took off like we all knew it would, and we had some more money coming in, everything would be okay. I'd go on tour with him and then we'd have the resources and connections to launch my career as well. Our second Buckingham Nicks album.
I'd had fears though, I told her, that he'd changed his mind. I'm scared of what the future is going to hold.
She always gave me sound advice. "God only knows, God makes his plan. The information's unavailable to the mortal man. We're working our jobs, collecting our pay. Believe we're gliding down the highway when in fact were slip sliding away."
"I just don't want to lose him," I confided.
"Oh dear, if there's one thing I know it's that he doesn't want to lose you either. The way that man looks at you- you're his whole world. Everyone sees it. You have something rare and something truly beautiful," she patted my hand.
I bid her goodnight and wandered back upstairs, reading a book and then journaling for a bit. I turned in around 3am, still no sign of Lindsey. I'm not sure exactly what time he came in, but I felt his arms wrap around me as he placed a gentle kiss on the back of my neck. He didn't fully wake me, but eventually I emerged from my slumber and I could tell something was wrong.
"Linds, what is it," I rolled over in his arms to face him, my hands immediately drawn to his curls.
He kissed me softly in the forehead. "I'm sorry I woke you, angel. I didn't mean to."
"What happened today," I persisted. "Why are you mad?"
"How can you tell I'm mad," he grumbled.
"You slammed the door. Then you slammed the door to the refrigerator. And then you buried your face in my hair. You have your tells, Linds, and I know you."
That elicited a laugh from him. "I just had a rough day. They don't understand me like you do."
"No," I responded groggily, "they probably don't. But they will when they hear the finished product. You're amazingly talented and they know that- it's why they wanted you to begin with."
"Steph, they um, they asked me for some of our Buckingham Nicks material today. They want a couple of songs for the album."
I tensed immediately, my stomach becoming instantly a little bit queasy.
"I told them no," he added quickly. "Not a chance in hell. That's our stuff, angel. You and me."
I nodded my head in agreement. I was glad he stuck up for us, but it still stung a little big that I wasn't a part of this to begin with. I told him to do it and I'm not bitter. I'm just... I'm disappointed in myself.
"I'd never sell our songs or give up on our dream, babe. This is just a stepping stone. My love for you is so overpowering," he assured me, lightly stroking my arm, when I didn't respond.
I snuggled in closer to his chest. "I miss you," I told him honestly.
He chuckled a little bit, giving me another kiss on the forehead. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere."
